


When it rains...

by badassunicornakahina



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Aromantic, Asexual Character, Asexual Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Food, Gen, Hugs, I desperately need this fandom to survive, Rain, There was a storm and I got inspired, information dumping, just love, mental health, slightly AU, taking care of our babey Ginoza
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:21:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27081844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badassunicornakahina/pseuds/badassunicornakahina
Summary: Three times Nichi finds Ginoza in the rain.
Relationships: Ginoza Nobuchika/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been reading and re-reading the fics in the Psycho-pass fandom. Especially those with Ginoza Nobuchika. That boi is special. And I need more of him. And it was raining. So here we are. 
> 
> If anyone has read my other work, I promise things are on hiatus only till I can realign the plot and belt out the chapters. I hope you wait. Because I know I will for the other authors in the fandom who have stories to tell too. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. This story has two more parts. They are already written. And I'll be uploading them in the next week.

Nichi hurried towards the pick-up point for the taxi. Her communicator informed her that it was six minutes away. It was already quite the downpour and Nichi struggled to keep her overflowing bag and all of herself under her umbrella.

The pick-up point was a three-minute walk from the entrance of Nona Tower. And it was on days like this that Nichi rued the security protocols that kept taxis from coming all the way up to the foyer of the Public Safety Bureau building. She hurried past the holo trees, that flickered in and out of existence, technology failing to contend with Mother Nature’s fury. She passed three empty benches, that were placed against the fake treeline because urban planners believed in the aesthetic effect of the combination perhaps? Because who in their right mind would want to casually sit down outside the Criminal Investigation Department’s Headquarters? 

Nichi stopped mid-stride. On the fourth bench, the one just before the pick-up point, sat a certain someone. Nichi was almost worried before she recognized the tall and official-looking figure. She knew the man from many inter-departmental meetings over the past five years she had worked at Nona. And from the QA reports he submitted - detailed and meticulous - the only ones she never needed to follow up on. They had never spoken as such, but he always greeted her when their paths crossed and even spared the odd smile when they happened to share the same lunch hour. 

But why was he sitting here? Hunched over like that? Without any protection from the rain?

“Ginoza Kanshikan?” Nichi stepped forward. 

The senior detective of CID’s Division 1 looked up. His glasses were missing and his green eyes looked startled for a second before he recognized the person addressing him. 

“Nichi-san,” he acknowledged, though there was no smile or change in posture. “What are you doing out here?” he asked. 

“Waiting for a taxi?” She pointed to the sign just ahead of him. 

“Oh… right. Heading home then?”

“Yes…”

“Hmmm… Ki o tsukete ne.”

_Be careful?_ What for?

Nichi walked past the inspector, making for the pick-up point. But something about the situation just didn’t feel right to her. So she turned around, only to see that Ginoza had gone back to slouching, staring at his hands clasped between his knees. A silent figure in the roar of the pouring rain. 

“Kanshikan?”

“Umm?” he intoned without looking up. 

“It’s… raining.” 

Ginoza actually looked around him, like he hadn’t noticed the storm pouring vengeance all over Tokyo. 

“It is,” he confirmed, like that was the answer he was expected to deliver. 

The small prick of worry was now blooming in to concern. 

“Why are you sitting here in the rain?” Nichi asked, slowly, emphasizing each word. 

Ginoza didn’t answer. His brow furrowed. And he turned his eyes away. 

Nichi took a step closer. 

“Ginoza-san, are you alright?” 

Ginoza shook her head, like he was trying to snap out of something. 

He stood up, fished out his glasses and put them back on his face. “I should be returning to Division 1… work… have work… I have work.”

Before she could process it, the concern had wormed its way out of her stomach and taken possession of her legs. She rushed after Ginoza - it was only a few steps really - and managed to catch the sopping wet sleeve of his suit jacket between her fingers. Ginoza faltered slightly, turning to peer curiously at what had gotten a hold of him. And he seemed very surprised when he realized it was a human hand, attached to a very human person, gripping his sleeve with all her strength. 

“Nichi-san?”

“You can’t go back to work like this! Do you even have a spare pair of clothes?” 

It was at that moment that Nichi’s drone-assisted taxi showed up at the pick-up point, making her communicator beep. It just added to the sense of urgency building up within her. Nichi wasn’t someone who had gut reactions or even believed in them, but something within her was telling her that if she let this man go at this moment, something terrible would happen. 

“Come home with me!” she nearly yelled, unable to identify what compelled her to say that. 

Ginoza just looked at her, stunned. 

“My brother left some clothes last time he visited and they might fit you, I mean, they’ll definitely fit you and you can get changed and warmed up and it’s not too far!” Words rushed out of her. The taxi beeped again. So suiting actions to words, Nichi turned and headed towards the taxi, struggling now to keep her grip on her umbrella, her bag and Ginoza’s sleeve. 

Nichi’s heart was beating over-time. But the taxi ride seemed to have the opposite effect on Ginoza. He seemed like he was shutting down. He hadn’t said a word since she had dragged him in to the taxi. If he was startled by her move then, his face didn’t show it now. In the dim interior of the automated vehicle, his green eyes seemed dull and unfocussed. 

He remained like that till they made it to her house - a modest, renovated _akiya_ in Arakawa-ku. He followed her in when the door slid open. He took off his shoes when she did. He stood motionless while she went to get him towels and her brother's clothes - a large sweat-shirt and pants. He made his way to the bathroom when she pointed it out. Taking the toiletries she handed to him. All as if he was on auto-pilot. 

Once Ginoza was in the bathroom, Nichi set soba noodles and instant broth to cook and went in to her room to change. He still hadn’t come out by the time the soup started to boil. Nichi walked up to the bathroom, but her hand froze before she could knock. 

Slowly, she pressed her ear to the door. Inside she heard Ginoza’s stuttering sobs - cries breaking through his attempts at breathing and talking himself down from whatever it was that was strangling him. She stayed there, face and hand against the door, unwilling to intrude but also unable to move away. When the sounds of his breathing seemed to ease off, Nichi tip-toed back to the kitchen counter and started pouring out soup in to two large bowls. 

Ginoza stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later. His eyes were red but he seemed like himself again. He even looked happy to see the soup. He asked her what was in it. 

Turned out Ginoza had a lot to say about soba noodle soup. 

* * *

**Author Notes:**

Nichi is not a solidly-grounded original character in many senses. But she serves the story in the moment. So do give her a chance. Bonus Fun-Fact: Nichi is one of the kanji readings for 日, which literally means Sun. See what I did there? 

Akiya are abandoned homes. There is a substantial market in Japan for buying and renovating abandoned homes. I thought it would be cool way to give some insight in to Nichi's character. 

Also, about mental health. Not everyone expresses a break-down or panic attack in the same way. While some get visibly agitated and display symptoms we recognize as panic, some individuals tend to just sob, some simply fall asleep while others tend to shut-down or disassociate in ways that may not be obvious to anyone who is not paying attention. As someone who has been through a lot of these situations - permutations and combinations thereof, I feel happy that I can talk about them through my stories. I would be happy also if you want to talk about these things on the side, just drop me a message. 

If you want to familiarize yourself with the basics of panic attacks, I recommend this excellent myth-buster article: [Myth vs. Reality: What Does a Panic Attack Feel Like?](https://www.healthline.com/health/mental-health/myth-vs-reality-panic-attacks) by Caroline Catlin, a photographer and writer who works on reforming the way health, illness, and disability are portrayed in media. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The storms continue in my city and so does this story. Also, I have a special place in my heart for warmth and naps.

There was a typhoon warning.

It was expected to make landfall by the evening. There were warnings about high-velocity wind, torrential rain and thunder.

So Nichi had done the clever thing and called in sick.

Now as the day grew gloomier, she was wrapped up in a quilt, curled up on her sofa with a hot mug of tea, re-reading her favourite manga on her tab. The rain was getting loud and the occasional strike of lightning made the whole house flash. But Nichi was warm, dry and comfortable.

So she felt more irked than worried when the tab flashed a notification warning her of an intruder in her front yard. She clicked on it, opening the camera feed from her front door. The image outside was dark, the rain making visibility poor. But the man standing in the rain was clear enough. Especially when an ominous crack of lightning illuminated his pale face and worried green eyes.

She hadn’t seen much of him since the last time he was over. Division 1 was caught up in some big case and the Chief was pressuring them to close it quickly.

But even as Nichi watched, Ginoza approached her door but just blinked at it, before turning away.

Nichi threw off her blanket and tab and rushed to the door, opening it to find Ginoza half-way to her gate.

“Ginoza Kanshikan!” she yelled as she charged in to the freezing rain after him.

This time she managed to grab hold of his arm as he turned. Lightning flashed again, terrifying her and perhaps him. So she wasted no time and high-tailed it back indoors, dragging Ginoza once again behind her.

“Ginoza-san!” she turned on him, angry that she was now wet and cold instead of dry and toasty, “What are you doing?”

“ _Sumimasen_ ,” he said softly, too softly, not meeting her eyes, “It wasn’t my intention to disturb you.”

Nichi folded her arms around her to hold back the heat that was quickly departing her body.

“Why are you here?” she asked, still exasperated by this turn of events.

“I wanted to return… your… clothes…” His words slowed down as he held up the brown package. It was soaked through, coming undone. Just like him.

Nichi sighed.

“Did you walk all the way here?”

“It… didn’t seem that… far.”

_But it’s the middle of a freaking storm!_ She wanted to yell. But that seemed like the wrong move here.

So she simply turned around, stalked to her room and stalked back with the necessaries. Dumping the clothes and toiletries in his arms, after having relieved him of the package, she gestured to the bathroom.

“Well, you know the drill.”

Ginoza turned to go to the bathroom. Nichi rushed to her room, struggling not to shiver as she searched for something warm to wear.

Nichi didn’t listen in on Ginoza this time. Ginoza came out quicker. She hoped he had at least taken the time to let the shower heat up his body. His cheeks were pink. Perhaps that was a good sign?

“So, do you have any opinions on sticky rice?” she asked, as he padded his way to her. After all, the man had gone on for nearly half an hour about soba noodles the last time. Even though he had never cooked them. Or anything. In his life. Ever.

“It depends,” he said with more seriousness than her mocking warranted, “What grain are you using? And how long have you let it soak? Also, the weather may affect- ”

“Okay, get out of my kitchen.”

Again, he seemed to miss the playfulness of her tone.

“Sumimasen Nichi-san,” he responded gravely, “I keep taking advantage of your kindness, don't I?”

“Ginoza-san-”

“Maybe I should leave,” he said but remained exactly where he was.

“I have a better idea,” Nichi said, weaving her way across the kitchen counter to his side, where she gently took his arm and guided him to the sofa. “Maybe you should sit here and…” here she gently tugged on his arm till he sat down, “just relax? Do you know how to relax?” she changed tact when she saw him take a breath to respond to the question like it wasn’t rhetorical, “Never mind, just sit… watch something on the _terebi_ ? A documentary on _katsudon_ perhaps?”

“Well, actually… there is a documentary on Rhodesian Ridgebacks that I have been wanting to see.”

“Rhodesian Ridgebacks?”

“They are large dogs. They were originally bred in Southern Africa, where they were trained by tribals and colonists to track and bay lions. Baying means that they would charge at them and dodge and weave but not attack. In fact, they were trained to never kill lions. Ever.”

Those words came out so quickly and with such uncharacteristic eagerness - definitely more than soba noodle eagerness - that Nichi laughed. Ginoza looked confused and perhaps like he wanted to apologize again.

“I’ve never seen lions, but they sound dangerous,” She retrieved the fallen quilt from the floor and placed it around his shoulders, “So why don’t you start watching and I’ll join you in a bit, Gino-san?” she said and handed the tab to him so he could watch whatever canine fantasy he desired.

“Kagari used to call me that. Gino-san. He used to call me that,” he said, his voice barely a whisper, again.

“The enforcer who went missing?”

Ginoza nodded. “He liked cooking too. Traditional cooking. Like you do.”

“Did you start reading up on food after Kagari went missing?”

He nodded again.

Nichi wanted to reach out and touch him. Squeeze his hands. Or his shoulders. Run her fingers through his hair. Draw circles on his palm. Anything to convey that she understood. But she simply smiled and returned to the kitchen.

She heard the documentary start as she pulled out the eggs.

By the time she was done grilling them, the rice was nearly ready. She went to check on Ginoza and was not surprised at all by the fact that he was fast asleep on the sofa, cocooned in the quilt.

She did touch him this time, laying her palm against his forehead. Sure enough, he seemed warm. But given the lack of tension on his face, she assumed it was just from the rain and nothing serious. She’d ask the med-bot to run a diagnostic once he woke up.

She returned to the kitchen and put the food on keep warm. Then returned and sat by Ginoza’s head. Rhodesian Ridgebacks were beautiful, but not tempting enough.

They could eat and restart the documentary after a nap.

* * *

**Note on the Japanese vocabulary:**

Sumimasen: Sorry or Excuse me, a formal form of apology, used with work colleagues or strangers

Terebi: Television. I just wanted it to sound like it was more than that though

Katsudon: Pork cutlet rice bowl. Thanks to [ Yuri on Ice ](https://myanimelist.net/anime/32995/Yuri_on_Ice), that's the first thing I will eat when I go to Japan. I mean [just look at it](https://www.flickr.com/photos/spektrograf/11336258513/in/photostream/)!

**A note on information-dumping and Neurodiversity:**

Info-dumping is the pop-culture term that has now become common parlance when describing a person talking about a particular subject for an extended period of time. I'm not sure if it's a particularly kind term.

Very often, neurodiverse people may miss social cues that the topic at hand does not necessarily hold their listener's attention. For them, it's about the opportunity to share information about something they have learned and are excited by. Ginoza talking about soba noodles or Rhodesian Ridgebacks is my attempt at describing this phenomenon.

As someone who often has to invest too much mental energy at reading social cues, I feel anxious when talking about vague subjects that hold my interest. I want to talk about them all the time and it hurts when someone disregards this. So, it felt good to write Nichi's negotiating Ginoza's fact-dropping. She is going to get better at it, I promise.

I really loved this satirical take on the neurotypical communication: [ Understanding Neurotypicals ](https://clareflourish.wordpress.com/2018/04/24/understanding-neurotypicals/) by [ Clare Flourish ](https://clareflourish.wordpress.com/about/) \- a transwoman interested in humanity. Once you read it, you might want to read it again. Then think about it. And then we can have a conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. There is just one more part to go. But, please let me know if you like what you're reading? Pretty please? With sugar on it?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Part III and the end of this one. Please let me know what you think of it. And if you have suggestions for more Ginoza-fics, even OTPs, I'd love to hear them and give them a whirl.

By the time the typhoon season passed its peak, Nichi and Ginoza had started spending time together on purpose. Division 1 had closed its case in the nick of time and the rains had kept criminal activity to a minimum. Nichi had gifted him a nanotech raincoat that folded down to the size of a kerchief and could thus be placed in his suit pocket. Ginoza, embarrassed and slightly overwhelmed, had felt obliged to return the favour. He had taken a week to research options and then presented her with a necklace that generated holos of different constellations and displayed relevant astronomical, mythological and meteorological information on her command. 

Nichi had met his dog Dime, had learned about his life. Ginoza had introduced her to gardening and helped her start her own collection of herbs in her kitchen when he learned that she wanted to quit the PSB in a couple of years and start her own cafe. 

It was the afternoon and Nichi had grown quite bored by all the maintenance and quality control reports. It was work better suited to a drone and not for the first time she wondered why she hadn’t been replaced by one already. So she was more than happy to join Ginoza on a walk down to their regular lunch place. 

She walked out of Nona Tower to find Ginoza already standing by the treeline. He had his new raincoat on, hood pulled back, face turned up to the sky. Thankfully today, the rain was light and refreshing. 

Ginoza seemed light too. His eyes shy behind his glasses. His hair wet over his forehead. And his smile gentle. 

He took the umbrella from her. Since he was taller. She drew closer to him. They started walking. They were halfway to the restaurant when Ginoza spoke. 

"My dad thinks we’re dating."

Masaoka Tomomi. Latent Criminal. Enforcer with Division 1. Under his son’s command as it were. It was only recently that their damaged relationship had begun to mend, after Masaoka-san nearly died in the hunt for the serial killer Makishima. It was slow-going, but Ginoza seemed to be genuinely invested in changing their dynamic. 

"Aren’t we?"

Ginoza stopped so suddenly that Nichi took two steps in to the rain before she realized her umbrella and its holder were gone. 

"Hey!" she squealed and rushed back undercover. She looked up at Ginoza, to see his eyes go from startled to sad. 

"Gino?"

"Ni," he started, "Ni, you know I can’t… I’ve told you why."

"Have you told your father?"

"I did… I mean, I tried to. He has a tendency to only hear things he wants to. He basically thinks it’s about finding the right person." 

"And he thinks I am the right person?"

"I think he has already picked out the names of our children." Ginoza sighed. Somehow, his eyes looked even sadder now. "Ni, is that what you think this is? Is that… what you want?"

Nichi snorted. Causing Ginoza some alarm. 

"Allow me to explain this, how I see it." She held up one finger, "Your father has an archaic, narrow understanding of what dating is, right?" Ginoza nodded, "So, he believes that when two people date, romantic feelings and sexual intimacy are implied?" Again Ginoza nodded, his eyes shifting from sadness to attentiveness now that Nichi was speaking language he understood. "From what we have discussed, you don’t feel any romantic or sexual attraction, yes?" Nod. "If at all you do, you may harbour at most an aesthetic attraction to mostly men or masculine-presenting individuals?" 

"I don’t understand where you are going with this."

"I am merely stating facts Kanshikan," Nichi thumbed her nose facetiously, "Now, answer my questions. Do you care about me?" 

"Ni, you know -"

"Uh-uh, restrict your responses to yes or no please."

"Yes."

"Do I care about you?"

"Shouldn’t you answer that?"

"Yes or no?"

Ginoza’s eyes flashed with annoyance. Nichi had to admit, it was a much better look on him than dejection. 

"Yes," he said, his tone taking on a dangerously low volume. 

"Damn right, I do!" Nichi smiled. And again Ginoza’s expression changed. Consternation. That made his brow scrunch up. "So, I propose a new definition of dating for us. We care about each other. We like expressing affection towards each other. And we like eating together. As long as all three conditions hold, we are dating." 

If Nichi wasn’t already used to the phenomenally long pauses Ginoza could take during conversations, she would have thought her last statement had broken him. But she knew from the long months of growing closer to Ginoza, that he liked to contemplate. Even when presented with all the evidence, he needed to run through the options in his mind. 

When he finally spoke, his question made Nichi giggle. 

"How long have you been thinking about this?" 

"A couple of weeks," Nichi responded truthfully, "Also, I saw a documentary."

"I would like to watch it too." 

"Your place or mine?"

"I have a better viewing port." 

"Alright. On your next day off?"

"No, that’s the day… to visit mum." 

"Oh, right! The week after?"

"Yes, sounds right."

Nichi shrugged and resumed her position next to him. They started walking again. 

"You’re coming with me to meet mum, right?"

"Of course I am! Have you decided whether you’d like me to bring flowers or cookies?"

"I always take flowers. What if... I made the cookies this time?"

"Sure, we could meet earlier in the day to bake them together." 

"Yeah, that would be good."

"It would." 

* * *

The storm died down. Which is great news for people in general.

If you are wondering, Typhoon Season in Japan goes from May to October. And peaks around September. So by this time in the story, Ginoza and Nichi have been hanging around for around four and a half months.

I changed the facts of the series to suit the mood of my piece. In the original, the hunt for the serial killer Makishima destroys Ginoza's life. His father dies and they don't really get a chance to reconcile.

Also, in case you are wondering, they are talking about visiting his mum's grave. Food is an important part of o- _Haka Mairi_ (visits to the gravesites of ancestors or relatives). Sometimes, people will also have picnics by the _haka_ (Furuba, amirite?). If you'd like to know more about funeral traditions in Japan, there is [this very insightful and respectful article on Tofugo](https://www.tofugu.com/japan/japanese-funeral/).

**A note on the Split-Attraction Model, Aromatic and Asexual Spectrums:**

In this piece, Nichi refers to Ginoza's _aesthetic attraction_. This is vocabulary that comes to us from the Split Attraction Model (SAM). This model starts by first defining what attraction is (liking a place, person, animal or thing) and then goes on to define a structure that can help compartmentalize different kinds of attraction (sexual, romantic, platonic, aesthetic, sensual etc).

This gives us a very important framework when talking about desires, feelings as well as expressing our wants and needs in any relationship. For everyone, yes, but especially for individuals on the aromatic spectrum (Nikolai Tesla and Queen Elizabeth The First are speculated to be, but we can't exactly, confirm, can we?) and the asexual spectrum (me!). If you want to know more about SAM, please do give a dekho to [this article by Nadejda Romanciuc](https://optimistminds.com/split-attraction-model/). It lists out the basics as well as the criticisms and though the choice of images is weird, the information is good and simply explained. For [a more nuanced look by a person on the AroAce spectrum](https://nextstepcake.wordpress.com/2020/04/30/naming-differentiating-attraction-orientations/), have a look at this post by self-proclaimed asexuality nerd [Sennkestra](https://nextstepcake.wordpress.com/about-me/).

And finally, I know this story throws more light on Ginoza and his needs. But if I do continue this series, I promise to do justice to Nichi as well. If that's something you would like to read, feel free to encourage me by sharing this story, sending me love via kudos and comments and liking the [Dragons & Rainbows Facebook page](https://www.facebook.com/dragonsandrainbows)!

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, thank you for reading. Comments, feedback and kudos will be much appreciated! 


End file.
